Reprobate
by mgcrtr
Summary: Reprobate: an unprincipled person. What he is doing is wrong. - Focused on the male members of the team.


**Disclaimer:** Not mine. :(

…

_Reprobate: an unprincipled person_

_What he is doing is wrong._

…

Artemis felt safe at Mt. Justice, among friends and teammates. At Mt. Justice she considered herself surrounded by family.

Wally knew Artemis was a heavy sleeper when she thought she was safe.

Artemis was such a heavy sleeper at Mt. Justice, that one time, Robin squeezed a whole bottle of whipping cream into her open mouth and she didn't stir. And one other time, Conner had punched a hole into her room and plaster had flown _everywhere_ and all Artemis had done was turn over in her sleep. And another time, the intruder alarm went off – accidentally - and it had taken a full thirty seconds for her to wake up.

Thirty seconds was a long time.

In thirty seconds Wally could chug a whole gallon of milk. In thirty seconds Wally could run around the track, four times. In thirty seconds, Robin could do a back-flip, M'gann could burn cookies, and Conner could go from gorilla pissed to puppy sad.

Today Wally had a bad day. A sad day. He didn't get an A on his report because the new age physics he had applied to his paper were too new aged for his teacher and one of the preschoolers who had recess on his school's playground broke her arm on the monkey bars because Kid Flash couldn't speed to her rescue. He'd watched her cry through the window of his fifth period math class.

In the half of a second it probably took her to fall, Kid Flash could've saved the girl from a broken arm. That was a lot less time than the thirty seconds it took Artemis to wake up to the blaring alarm.

Wally ran when Artemis hurried into Mt. Justice. He skirted around a corner and his heart throbbed in his throat a billion liters of blood per millisecond. A billion liters. Of blood. Per millisecond. M'gann asked Artemis why she was back, hadn't she gone home to sleep?

"What's wrong?"

"Go away!"

Wally flattened himself into the corner and watched a stomping Artemis head to her room. Were those tears? Since when did Artemis cry? He ran ahead of her, looking back to catch glimpses of her face. She staggered into her room, and Wally was no Conner, but he bet that sound he heard was quiet crying. Soft crying.

Wally waited an hour, before he wondered if Artemis had wiped away her makeup. Normally she always did - he had heard horror stories from girls at school who didn't and then they had pimples or rashes or blurry vision or a number of messed up things. But maybe - maybe Artemis forgot to clean her face tonight.

It took thirty seconds to do a lot of things, and when Artemis thought she was someplace safe with family, friends, teammates, she slept like Sleeping Beauty herself, though even a kiss probably wouldn't wake her.

So Wally knew Artemis wouldn't wake when he went into her room and the bedroom door slid along its track. He knew the slight rush of wind when he went to her side wouldn't stir her and neither would she pop an eye open as the bed shifted with him putting one knee on it and then the other, straddling Artemis's lithe form.

Wally peered down at sleeping, cried-out Artemis.

She was pretty even after she cried, even without make-up on her face. The cloth she had removed her makeup was balled in her hand, curled tightly above her head. It was stained black and tan. Wally leaned forward to take the cloth from her hand, and her lips grazed his chest. He rose up hastily.

She was still asleep.

If Wally left Artemis's room at medium speed, it would take ten seconds.

In the Disney movie, Sleeping Beauty took about three seconds to open her eyes and then about five more to acclimate to her surroundings.

Wally knew it was wrong when he stole his first kiss from her lips when she couldn't say no.

When he did it again and again - first lips and then a little bit of tongue - he knew it was wrong.

But he had had a bad day and it wasn't like she would ever know.

…

Red Arrow crouched low on a rooftop, surveying the street. What time was it? Three in the morning, four? He leaned further over the edge of the roof, bow strung as a manhole slid back. Cheshire shimmied out, out of the rabbit hole. Warm air frosted against the night as it tailed out around her. The moon deepened her shadow until it looked like it moved before she did.

Red Arrow watched, but did not shoot as she stepped with sly sashays down the road where no one walked. She slid around, surveying the street level. An alleyway swallowed her up with the white of her mask being the last he saw of her for the moment.

Cheshire got the edge on him. She jumped onto his back, threw them both over the edge of the building. She laughed in pleasure as he fired a grappling arrow to save him (her). They swung through a window, breaking it, crashing to the floor.

The carpet scraped his cheek as he rolled to evade her blade. He jumped back from an expected punch. She pricked him with his poisoned arrowhead. His body froze.

She looked at him. He had no choice but to stare back.

"We're all mad here," she muttered, pulling his body against hers as she jumped from the building. He wanted to roll his eyes, punch her, but his arms flapped uselessly. It would take five minutes for the feeling to come back.

She took him down into the sewers, into her rabbit hole. Minutes passed. She slammed him up against the wall. He could feel his fingers, his legs, the movement of his chest in an out. She whispered words that neither wanted anyone but each other to hear. Red Arrow slipped a hand to the nape of her neck, fingering the curls of her wild hair. She lifted her mask off herself and Red Arrow opened his mouth to her tongue.

_Red Arrow was a hero.  
_

Her hand shook, taking his, pulling him along the underground passage, showing him her underground home. The rats scurried out of their footfalls and the tabby cats came out to grin, long and sleek, following the duo to the basement of a condemned building.

_He was stronger than Cheshire.  
_

Red Arrow lied when he said he couldn't move his hands when Cheshire told him to pull off his hand guards. She did it for him, her gloves raking his skin. Then she took off hers and ran the pads of her fingers down his face.

_He could bench more than her. Could do more pull-ups. Could run farther and faster and throw a knife with more force than her.  
_

Her fingers tugged his mask off.

_Roy was shameless in submission._

When Red Arrow saw Cheshire later, he was with the team. He fired off an arrow that she barely avoided.

When Red Arrow was alone, Cheshire got the jump on him. She took off her mask and then Roy's.

…

When Dr. Fate took over Zatanna's father, Robin hid his glee well. It was horrible, what happened to her, but now they had a connection. She was like him, in a way.

Robin sought out time to spend with her. A pizza shop down the way? A mission? Want to show him some magic?

They had a connection that rivaled all others; even his and Wally's bro-ship. Zatanna and him had both witnessed parental destruction.

The two planned an outing, rock climbing in a gym, with the funky handholds and a guy holding a rope for them. Zatanna had devised a spell to make the guy holding the rope forget that they had been there and it was going to be good.

But then Wally wanted to come along.

Robin gave every reason in the book why Wally couldn't tagalong. Robin almost got one of his pathetic excuses to work, but then Zatanna appeared in her sorcery flare.

"Coming?" She didn't just ask Robin, she included Wally in her question.

"Why wouldn't I, beautiful?"

It was fun time. Zatanna was getting happy, Wally was making a fool of himself, and Robin was enjoying watching the others have fun.

But then Zatanna lost it.

She let go of reality, and Robin could feel, actually feel her forget about her dad. It was like, that maturity that Robin had bonded to she didn't have, that loss that he thought Zatanna understood, she didn't understand.

She thought she could be happy, thought it was okay to forget!

You weren't supposed to forget! Ever.

Never.

Losing someone you loved, you were supposed to think of them every day. They were a reminder to why you needed to keep going, to become stronger and happier and freer.

It was fine to have fun. Fine! Be happy, enjoy life!

But you weren't supposed to _forget_.

Robin belayed off the wall, thumped his feet into the ground.

"What's up Robby?" Zatanna asked. She turned around midair to look down at Robin. She grinned, teeth showing, hair half in her face half out. Wally pretended to get a peek down her shirt. She hit his face away and he swung a climbing wall over.

Robin shrugged. "Fate just doesn't seem like it wants me up there today."

Zatanna's smile froze. It disappeared.

Robin grinned. "Why don't we get an ice cream?"

Wally hit the ground next to him, hard. He looked like he wanted to say something, but Robin didn't care. Zatanna zipped back into the correct orbit, the one that was a little elliptical, and settled down next to Robin.

She remembered.

"I don't feel much like ice cream."

"Come on. Your dad wouldn't want you to not eat ice cream."

It wouldn't be fair if she got to forget and he couldn't. Not yet. He still had to take revenge.

Revenge was supposed to be a part of losing a parent. She wasn't allowed to be fine with death before he was.

Wally punched Robin in the arm, and he made a note to get him back for that later.

…

After school M'gann had cheerleading practice, and Conner had football practice.

M'gann giggled with girls in the locker room, and Conner stood in the shower, alone. He didn't mind the scars on his body, but he'd learned that civilians sometimes minded them. Conner washed down alone until Fifty-Eight joined him, his body smooth and hard in ways M'gann's was not.

The others on the football team had left, headed home for dinner.

Conner didn't have dinner at a set time. "Do you?" Conner asked back, the comment sharp.

"My parents don't want me home," Fifty-Eight said.

Neither moved and the water must've been cold, not that Conner really felt it, but Fifty-Eight shivered a little. Conner moved past Fifty-Eight, telling him to put on clothing.

After school M'gann had cheerleading practice, and Conner lunged at sweaty boys.

M'gann whispered funny kissing secrets to girls in the locker room, and Conner stripped down. Fifty-Eight watched him out of the corner of his eye. Conner returned the favor, because it was polite to make eye contact.

"Where'd you move here from?" Fifty-Eight asked, pants on, shirt in his hands.

Conner tugged on boxers and then his jeans. He grunted.

"Want to grab dinner?"

"M'gann and I have plans."

"Right…" Fifty-Eight shrugged on his shirt, turning away, walking away.

Conner told M'gann about Fifty-Eight, and M'gann told him Conner should invite Fifty-Eight to come with them. M'gann couldn't be Conner's only friend at school.

Conner glimpsed Fifty-Eight leaving the locker room and hurried up to him. "You can come to dinner with us. If you want."

"What about M'gann?"

Conner shrugged. "She invited you." It was just the stupid dinner place that they always went to, halfway between the school and the mountain.

After school M'gann had cheerleading practice, and Conner tackled half-naked boys.

M'gann shared baking recipes with the girls in the locker room, and Conner slapped boy's butts. Fifty-Eight's hand lingered against his backside more than the others' had. The rest of the football players stripped and took quick showers. Conner went in second to last. Fifty-Eight came in after him.

Fifty-Eight cornered Conner and pressed his hands to the wall on either side of Conner's head. "What are you doing with her?" Fifty-Eight asked and kissed Conner the way M'gann never would.

She didn't like bruises or hurt or pain.

Conner shoved Fifty-Eight back. He crashed into the wall, stunned. Conner stepped through the water to him. "Put some clothes on," he sneered to Fifty-Eight. He did, and Conner left without a backwards word.

M'gann was there when he came out, and then before they could walk away, Fifty-Eight emerged from the locker room, and M'gann told him to come eat with them again. Conner glared, an arm wrapped protectively around his girlfriend's waist.

M'gann giggled with girls and Conner fought with boys in the locker room. They called him queer.

He pressed one of his "teammates" to the wall with little trouble. His hand bruised Sixty-Nine's skin, closed his esophagus.

"Say that again," Conner told Sixty-Nine.

"You," he spit. "You-you're a-ah qu-queer s-son-of-of-ah–" His eyes rolled into the back of his head, and Conner dropped him to the ground.

The clone stepped back and dared someone else to say another word.

Fifty-Eight went to dinner with them again.

Before school M'gann went to make up a test she missed because of a mission and Conner took Fifty-Eight behind the bleachers. They had their way with each other.

After school M'gann had cheerleading practice, and Conner learned what it felt to be truly dominant.

…

_fin._


End file.
